A/N: review please?
Warning: mild sexual content within, all consensual. nothing explicit.
Waves lapped against the shore, creating a milky foam in their wake. The sea was grey and the day was overcast, with drizzle dusting everything and leaving a chill in it's wake.
Loki sat on the sandy banks of the beach, eyes trained on the water. He scarcely noticed Sigyn approaching from behind, her footsteps growing louder as she approached. Loki sat with his legs drawn partially toward his chest, his arms resting effortlessly on his knees.
Sigyn furiously kicked the gritty sand in his direction, huffing loudly.
"Is it done?" asked Loki, his eyes never once leaving the frosty waves.
"I've spoken with your brother like you asked." Sigyn replied, the iciness evident in her tone. A smile broke onto Loki's sharp features and he could feel his insides twist with a mixture of hope and pity. Thor, the great bumbling alcoholic, playing into his game like a pawn in a game of chess. If Loki was being honest with himself, he was a little surprised.
The locals who frequented the pub near his castle always told tales of Thor's unrelenting temper and his tendency to partake in more drink than he should. As teenagers it had been Loki who succumbed to the seductive allure of alcohol, to deal with his never ending shame. It seemed Thor used it for a different purpose; to endure his unquenchable guilt.
Loki stood from the sand, brushing off his trousers. He let his piercing blue eyes settle onto Sigyn's tired face. Her features were hardened into an expression of pure hatred, something that made his blood turn cold.
"Thank you." said Loki softly, bringing one of his hands down to cup her face gently. She cast her eyes to the ground, the sound of the sea growing louder.
"You left them alone again didn't you?" Sigyn asked, tearing her eyes from the damp sand and back to Loki's face. He felt a small ripple of shame somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
For all of her stubbornness, Sigyn was a loyal wife. One who deserved more than the life he built for them on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was only after she smacked him hard across the face that he spoke, rubbing his sore jaw in the process.
"The children are fine." Loki spat furiously, snatching Sigyn's wrist and gripping tightly. She defiantly kept her gaze on his, glowering the entire time.
"They are children, Loki. Your own flesh and blood. Your boys! They need looking after at this age." She said, her tone sharp and her face a mere inches from his own. Loki's eyes softened a bit and he released his hold on her wrist. He noticed, with a twinge of delight the red markings left from his firm grip.
"You're lovely when you're angry." said Loki darkly, a smirk on his lips.
"Are you drunk?" Sigyn hissed, pushing him hard in the chest. He'd be lying if he said the comment didn't sting a bit.
"No." said Loki simply, crossing his arms across his chest. He could feel his expression change into one of total irritation.
"You cannot leave the boys alone, Loki. Narvi and Vali are young and impressionable. They will wander and come across some stranger who will snatch them away, and you will be none the wiser as you sit and sulk on the shoreline."
The irritation he felt before was growing into frustration, resulting in a low growl bursting from his throat.
"They are smart enough to stay inside the castle. If they happen to wander outside they are strong enough to fend for themselves." said Loki, grinding his teeth together hard.
It was clear she was fighting to urge to say something regrettable, but she spoke again with the same biting tone.
"You miss the point of keeping them in the castle... what would people say if they saw your children wander about alone in the streets, in the forests, on the shoreline? You face enough prejudice. We needn't add neglectful parent to this list."
Loki rolled his eyes, pushing past her roughly and making his way towards the looming castle tower in the distance. He had heard quite enough of her hysterical ranting for one day. Sigyn was insistent on keeping his boys locked away in the castle. She said she worried someone who steal them away, hurt them, cause trouble just because of their parentage.
"I spent so many years being afraid, Sigyn. Surely you understand why I don't want to keep them miserable and locked away like pets. They are children for Norns sake. They should be allowed some freedoms." Loki snarled over his shoulder.
He could feel her rush to catch up to him and his shoulders tensed when she responded.
"Because we all know how well granting you freedom worked out. 'Yes Loki, go train to be a great sorcerer. Go to a strange man's house-'"
SLAP!
The sound of his hand colliding with her cheek echoed across the beach. The sheer force of the smack sent her face down in the sand. Loki felt his chest heaving, his heart beating feverishly and his cheeks flush with anger. His thin frame loomed over her, hands balled into fists and eyes practically on fire.
"How dare you." said Loki, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sigyn was nursing the spot on her face where his hand made contact seconds before. Loki saw her run her fingertips below her nose, the sticky warmth of blood clinging to her hand.
The realization that he struck her, and hard, sunk in quickly. Loki's eyes widened, heart still beating wildly, and he hurried to her side. Kneeling in the sand he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her hastily.
"Sigyn I... I am sorry." said Loki quietly, though he was not sure if he believed the words coming from his mouth.
"What's new?" Sigyn replied haughtily, wiping the blood from her nose and tossing the handkerchief back carelessly. She rose swiftly and quietly, making her way toward their ominous looking abode. Loki watched as she stalked away, hugging her middle protectively.
He certainly wasn't proud of the fact that this was not the first time his hand collided with her face. Sigyn was mouthy, opinionated and grew colder each day. Still he knew it did not excuse his outbursts.
What started as a modest friendship had grown into resentment and bitter disdain for one another. After the birth of their children, Sigyn devoted all of her attention to the boys. True, she was an adept mother and dutiful wife. But a companion and lover she was most certainly not.
Loki hurried after his wife, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked along.
"Sigyn!" cried Loki, hoping she would hear his calls and slow her pace. If she heard him, she chose to ignore him all together. He called for her again, this time his tone more forceful. She stopped in her tracks, spinning on her heels and wiping more blood from beneath her perfect upturned nose. Her strawberry blonde braids were damp and frizzy, looking worse than they had this morning.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he made his way to where she stood in the light rain. The droplets splashed on her face and started to soak through the burgundy cloak she wore about her shoulders. Loki cocked his head to the side, searching her angry face carefully.
"I love you, Sigyn. Don't forget that." said Loki softly, the rain picking up and the waves splashing louder as the storm grew in the distance.
He tilted her head ever so slightly and brought their lips together in a gentle kiss. He could feel her recoil, could feel the energy shift from tense to worse. The salty copper taste of her blood danced across his lips as he deepened the kiss.
No matter the circumstances, good or bad, she would never love him the way he wanted; a fact that burned him to the core.
"Boys!"
Loki's voice boomed through the castle, echoing off the empty walls.
Norns, he sounded just like his father.
In the entry way stood a small table with a vase of fresh flowers. Sigyn changed them every few days or so, taking Narvi and Vali into the forest with her to collect new ones.
The flowers were perhaps the only bright spot in the entire castle. The stone was grey, dingy and dark. There were few windows so natural light did not glow through the halls as they did Odin's palace in the city. Still there were perks to be a prince of Asgard. The house maid that cared for his castle was dutiful and had impeccable attention to detail.
Loki liked the darkness and seclusion, preferring to keep to himself most days. Though lately he left the castle more and more often to hunt or fish. Sigyn would complain that he smelled of dirt and the low tide when he returned. He would remind her of how she smelled as a child after spending hours alone in the forests, with her feet bare and her skin coated in a sheen of sweat. She would stick her tongue out playfully and they would laugh.
Perhaps one of the only moments of playfulness in their entire relationship.
Down the winding staircase bounded two young boys, no more than five or six Midgardian years.
Vali, the first born, was the spitting image of his father. Ebony hair was kept relatively short with a simple braid on one side that tucked behind his ear. His skin had an ivory glow with eyes a deep ocean blue. He was much taller than his brother, despite only being a few short years older, and his bony fingers curled around a small wooden sword he had fashioned from a fallen tree outside the castle.
Narvi on the other hand was short with a shock of red hair on his head. Freckles peppered his pale face, and he loved to wear an emerald cloak where ever he went. "Just like you, father." Narvi would say, racing about the castle with the cloak billowing behind. Narvi's saphire orbs were about the only distinguishing feature he shared with his father, while his little upturned button nose was Sigyn's without a doubt.
"Narvi Lokison come here to me." said Loki, his foot tapping impatiently.
Above the boys left brow was the tiniest smudge of what looked like dirt. Loki knelt down in front of Narvi, using his thumb to carefully scrub the spot of dirt off his face. With a heavy sigh, Loki stood and wiped the dirt on his trousers. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger, squeezing hard.
"If I've told you boys once I've told you a hundred times, you cannot leave the castle without your mother or I accompanying you."
He hated to hear the words leave his mouth. When he was their age he would play for hours in the orchards with Amora and no harm ever came to them. He and Thor would come to the shores and splash in the waves of the sea, tanning their skin in the sun and freckling their arms. But his own children? They were pale like ghosts; thin and fragile with bony hands and feet. They looked, more or less, like prisoners.
Narvi opened his mouth to protest but his brother beat him to the punch, rushing forward in defense.
"Father! It was only for a moment. To gather flowers for mother, see?"
Loki's eyes followed Vali's outstretched hand, finding the flower vase full of a plant that was most definitely not a flower. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the purple bell shaped buds. He felt his feet compel him forward, his eyes widening in horror. Belladonna.
"Did you eat the berries from this plant?" Loki demanded, his heart pounding in his ears. The silence was near deafening.
The deadly nightshade plant. The fruit looked like cherries, making them particularly alluring to young children. Sweet in flavor, but highly toxic.
"N-no, father. Why?" said Narvi, his wide eyes full of tears. "We just wanted to surprise mother."
Loki snatched the plant from the vase, observing where a few berries still clung to the plant. He tossed the plant to the stone floor angrily and beckoned for the boys to come forward. Kneeling once again, he took each of their hands in his own and drew in a rather shaky breath. Willing his heart to slow, he spoke.
"You are kind souls, my sons." Loki began quietly, remembering the words Frigga spoke to him so many years ago. "Father, you're shaking." said Vali, placing another hand over Loki's larger one. No one could accuse him being a father who didn't care for his children's well being.
Loki closed his eyes and breathed deep through his nose. He steadied his hands, cursing himself mentally. Had the world really made him so skittish? Or was it fatherhood that made him fearful?
"Your mother does not wish for you to go out alone." said Loki, opening his eyes. "She fears for your safety. She says you are far too young to venture out by yourselves."
"But why?" asked Narvi, wiping his tears on the back of his sleeve.
"Because..." Loki let his voice trail off, unsure of what to say next.
"Because you are young and the world is unkind." Another moment of silence as both of the boys kept their eyes focused on Loki's face. He could feel his expression growing more irritated. Could feel his ears burning with the afterthought that keeping them locked away would make them too soft.
"We will keep this our little secret, all right? As long as you promise to wash your face when you come home." said Loki, ruffling Narvi's hair affectionately. A smile burst onto the young boys face and they both nodded enthusiastically.
"Now upstairs to wash. Your mother will expect you both down for supper soon." said Loki, motioning for them to go up to their quarters.
Vali was halfway up the stairs when he stopped in his tracks and asked, "What is that plant called?"
Loki bent down, scooping the remnants of the nightshade off the floor. He plucked a berry, crushing it between his thumb and pointer finger. The dark juice dribbled down his fingers, staining them in the process.
"Belladonna. And it is toxic, my son. So take caution when handling this plant." said Loki. He crossed the room and flung the plant into the already dying fire, watching the leaves light up and crisp away to ash.
The heat was almost too much. Loki felt a bead of sweat working it's way down from his occipital region toward his neck. She smelled like honey and spearmint. An admittedly odd combination, but something to which he'd grown accustomed.
They'd found a comfortable rhythm quickly, his hips moving deftly in time with hers while her long nails dug into his back. He buried his face in her neck, sucking hard on a tender spot above her collarbone.
This was routine.
Loki's temper would flare after Sigyn said something she knew was disrespectful. He would lash out inappropriately, usually by striking her somewhere, and then they'd have rough makeup sex. It was an irrational and unhealthy solution to their problems. Both of them knew this, they just didn't seem to care. After hundreds of years and two children it just felt normal.
Despite the fast pace and the near unbearable heat, Loki felt a sort of warmth in his chest watching Sigyn arch her back and bite her lower lip.
This.
This was about the only time she wanted him. This is where he excelled. Let it not be said that he didn't know how to please someone. Suddenly he felt her hand fisting his hair as she sucked in a breath and let out another soft moan.
"Careful." Loki purred, a chuckle on his lips as she tightened her grip in his hair. Sigyn was unraveling beneath him, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his veins. She pulled on his hair, hard, as her orgasm sent her over the edge. Loki didn't take long to follow suit, whispering "Amora" feverishly into the pillows.
Sigyn's body tensed beneath him and he rolled over to his side of the bed, bracing himself for the shit storm that would no doubt follow his little name slip.
Surprisingly she said nothing. They laid in silence for a few moments, with only the sound of their shallow breathing. When Sigyn did finally speak, she didn't even mention Amora at all.
"Refresh my memory. Why did you need me to convince Thor to come here?"
Loki rolled over, looking at Sigyn incredulously.
"Well that's certainly an abrupt change of pace." His tone was playful, though if he were being honest he was tired of explaining himself. Sigyn inched closer, pulling the covers over her bare shoulders.
"We convince him I'm planning something devious. Oh! What did you come up with, while we're on the topic?" Loki asked expectantly. He rubbed the tender spot on his scalp where she had been pulling his hair. The sensation sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine. Hair pulling was definitely not something he'd ever enjoyed.
"Murder." Sigyn replied, her tone matter of fact.
Loki felt his eyebrows shoot upwards, then promptly furrow.
"A little dramatic, Sig." said Loki, pressing his lips together. "Who am I supposed to have been plotting against?"
Sigyn rolled onto her back, closing her eyes and yawning softly. She ran her hands through her long reddish hair and said, "Mephistopheles."
Loki stopped rubbing his scalp abruptly, his brows furrowing further. There was a pause as he considered this a moment.
Mephisto was a personal guard for Odin these days. Even the thought of the old demon brought fresh memories of Elliot to the forefront of his brain.
The touch was always unwelcome. The sex always unwanted. The pure violation... unfortunately all too familiar.
Still, hundreds of years later, Loki battled his inner most demons, convincing himself on some days that the years of abuse never happened. Some days he didn't think of Elliot at all. Other days he couldn't quiet the deep burning shame when he reflected on the times his body responded positively to Elliot's ministrations.
"You ask me to stop but your body loves this." Elliot would whisper this yanking his hair, making him cringe and cum at the same time. Was it the pain that brought him pleasure? Or the realization that it was almost over?
Maybe it was the fact that Elliot was his first. Took his virginity before he even had the chance to give it away.
It was no secret that Loki was bisexual. As a skilled shape-shifter he even tried his hand as a girl for about a year in his youth. Decidedly, being a male was much easier. It garnered less attention and fussing from Odin. He hadn't dared trying out his alternate gendered self with Elliot. From Amora's stories, he surmised the treatment would've been far worse.
"It does make sense." said Loki, still deep in thought. Sigyn shook him from his reverie when she said,
"Go on then. We tricked him to come see you so you can, what was it again, steal a lock of his hair?"
Loki rolled his eyes, hopping out of bed and throwing open the nearby window. The night chilled his skin, making him sigh with relief. The cool breeze felt amazing. He leaned his head out the window further, watching the waves on the shore in the distance. That noise was always comforting. The distant thrumming of water moving in a seemless rhythm lulled him to sleep on most nights.
"His hair is necessary for the curse. Cast the curse, watch his mind deteriorate into nothing. He will be unfit for the throne and I will be named the new heir to the Asgardian throne. The next in line. I can grant you the life you have always felt you deserved." said Loki, the last bit coming out a tad harsh sounding.
The timid knock on the door startled him, and Loki dressed himself quickly while Sigyn lit the bedside candle. She dressed herself in a robe.
"Who calls?" Sigyn asked, her brows knit together.
"Mother!" A tiny voice called from the other side of the door. Loki shut the window, smoothing a hand through his jet black hair. It was unusual for one of the boys to come calling this late in the night. They were self sufficient and fairly accomplished at soothing their own nightmares. He flung the door open, kneeling in front of his youngest.
"What has you up so late?" asked Loki, his tone calming.
Narvi's face was soaked with tears, his breathing ragged and his eyes alight with fear.
"Vali has gone quite mad! Father, he cannot remember my name. He... he fell out of bed and he is talking madness!" Loki turned to Sigyn who's face was scrunched up in confusion.
She hurried forward, placing a gentle hand on Narvi's face. She shushed him quietly and pulled the young redhead into her arms, rocking him soothingly.
"I am sure it is a nightmare, Narvi. Do not fret." said Loki, beginning to make his way out of the room to the hall. He got about three steps before Narvi spoke again, making the color drain from Loki's face.
"The berries, father. I think he ate some."
